LEJOG Day 82: South Laggan to Invermoriston

Weather: Sunny to start, cloudy later with fresh westerly

Distance covered today: 33.5km (20.8mi)

Last night's B&B: Forest Lodge (£38)

Cumulative distance: 1682.7km (1045.6mi)/ % Complete: 87.9%

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 82 (click!)

There was an unexpected and unwelcome diversion right at the end of today’s walk. A number of trees had been blown down in some storm and a notice sternly warned walkers to divert for their safety. Someone had added in pen that the warning was to be believed; the Way really was blocked! The diversion seemed to take forever.  It was probably no more than about 4km (3mi), but on top of a long day, with plenty of ups and downs, I certainly felt it. The net result was a walk of 33.5km (20.8mi) for the day, which is the longest I have walked so far in a day on this journey, and may well be the longest I will walk!

I was aware early on that I was in for a fairly rough ride, because I was intending to do two of the recommended legs of the Great Glen Way in one day, admittedly individually fairly short legs.   At breakfast this morning, my host told me about the diversion, but without being very specific, so I had it hanging over me all day and I got to thinking about whether I should take a shortcut onto the A82, but my natural aversion to A-roads and the fact that the roads are now busy with summer traffic persuaded me to take my medicine and just keep going!
 
The Way was historically interesting today, if scenically not so much. After a hairy section on the A82 from my B&B right at the start, I picked up the Way on the Caledonian Canal, very soon using a section of the disused Invergarry and Fort Augustus Railway. This was of particular interest to me as I had been strongly encouraged to watch a DVD about it in a B&B a couple of nights ago. The project was largely pushed by Lord Burton, who actually argued in Parliament that the railway would reduce the journey time to his northern hunting lodge by a day!  The original intention was that the line would ultimately link Fort William and Inverness and amazingly, it was built to main-line standards. Fierce rivalries between three competing railway companies somehow prevented the extension from Fort Augustus to Inverness from being built, and the existing line to Fort Augustus was therefore a financial disaster. It staggered along with Lord Burton picking up the annual tab until his death. All the investors lost their entire stake and the line was finally closed in 1946. How different the world was in those days! That a man could think, and say quite publicly, that a railway should be built so that he could get to his hunting lodge more efficiently beggars belief!

Soon I was back on General Wade’s military road that, along with the railway, ran beside the edge of Loch Oich and connected Fort William with Fort Augustus. The irony of this military road was that it was subsequently efficiently used by Bonnie Prince Charlie in the Jacobite Rebellion, which is not what the General had intended!

Fort Augustus was crammed with tourists and I couldn’t get out of it fast enough, reflecting on the irony of my reaction. Just a few days ago, I was arguing that tourism on the canals in the Lowlands should be properly promoted, and as soon as I see the effects, I head instantly for the hills!  Literally in this case, as the path along Loch Ness was almost all in the forested hills above it. Initially, I resented this as there was hardly any view of the famous loch.  Eventually, in areas where the forest had been felled, the full majesty of this enormous rift, filled with water, could be appreciated. Apparently it is so big and deep that it has a greater volume of water than all the other fresh-water lakes and reservoirs in Britain combined! Despite this, the engineers who built the Caledonian Canal raised the level of Loch Ness by 6ft (1.8m). Is there anything they didn’t touch?

By now, I was getting seriously tired, but I couldn’t help reflecting on the fact that such an effort would have been impossible for me just a few months ago.  Before the start of this journey, when I was training in the Cape, I referred to the fine, muscled calves of the “professional walkers”. I am reminded of a much earlier association. I was riding the crest of a wave on my scholarship to the US. I had been voted the student “most likely to succeed” by the student body in Wisconsin and it rather went to my head. I didn’t realise at the time that as a visible and exotic foreigner, I was an obvious choice for the voters, despite the fact that few of the 2,000 students actually knew me personally. The effect on my ego was immediate and marked. It is profoundly strange and infinitely misguided that, when you are young, the opinion of strangers can affect your own opinion of yourself!

Anyway, armed with this accolade and also secure in the knowledge that my father had been a very accomplished long-distance athlete, I decided that I would join the track team, and despite years of evidence that I wasn’t much good at it, I would emulate him. I thought that the Jesuits had got it wrong and the Americans had the answer. A little science and my genes would show through!  I too would be a real athlete!

The temperature outside was well below zero Fahrenheit and we started the season running indoors around the circular track inside the school. As the weather warmed, we were finally allowed to run outside on long distance runs with the temperature still well below freezing. At first, I was able to keep up with my colleagues, but as we all got fitter, the guys with the most talent, (and the most impressive calves), started to pull away. I tried harder and harder, but it became more and more difficult for me to keep up. It seemed to be so easy for them. I saw those calves disappearing into the distance.

Then finally, one day, the best of them pulled well ahead in a timed trial. I was mortified. When I got back to the school, I was supposed to cool down (actually to warm up) by running around the indoor track slowly until my muscles and tendons had acclimatised to the air-conditioned heat. I was so traumatised that I ignored the advice and ran like a steam-train around the tight, indoor track, punishing myself,  applying excessive force to my extremities, trying to catch up with them. There was an almighty crack and my Achilles tendon went. It was the end of my American track career.

In some ways, it was a relief. In my heart of hearts, I had begun to realise that I just didn’t have the talent. But at the time, I couldn’t distinguish between talent and effort. I had read all about how if you really want something, you just have to try harder, and I had thought that I had never really tried hard enough. At least the Achilles tendon let me off the hook. It was of course the end of my athletic ambition.
 
I had a girl-friend at the time called Mary.  She didn’t seem to mind my coming down to earth.  It seemed somehow to enhance her own status. We used to meet in a graveyard at Houdini’s grave. It was a place where we could be fairly certain to be alone. She thought that was much better than the usual pizza joint or the YMCA. I was interested to find that Joseph McCarthy was also buried there. As a right-wing Senator from Wisconsin, he was the person responsible for the “reds under the bed” scare in the US. He caused much misery amongst many innocent and fair-minded, if left-leaning people in the 40s and 50s.  The term “McCarthyism” was coined after him. I found myself more interested in him than Houdini, which added a certain strain to the relationship. I thought he was a demagogic fanatic. She thought he had a point.  It was the beginning of the end for us!

Still, to be fair to Mary, she did ease the path back to normality from my unrealistic and irrational athletic ambitions.  It was a lesson well learned, but as I walked further today than I had previously on this journey, I took some small satisfaction from the fact that I did indeed do it, and that I could!

Dinner last evening. I was privileged to meet Garrick (an Opera singer), Juliet (a Canadian Immigration Official) and her partner, John (a Boeing 767 Captain with Air Canada). It was a thoroughly stimulating evening

Back on the road this morning, a launch spied through the trees on the Caledonian Canal

An mossy embankment on the disused Invergarry and Fort Augustus Railway

Back on General Wade's military road, right next to Loch Oich

A crenellated bridge on the Invergarry and Fort Augustus Railway. It was built to main-line standards but it was a financial disaster, because the extension to Inverness was never built

Looking back down beautiful Loch Oich

This truly beautiful bridge was built by brewer-turned-engineer James Dredge. It used a cantilever principle, so that the centre of the bridge was effectively supported by each end. In principle, if the bridge is severed in the middle, it will remain standing!

Effectively this means that the supporting cables take less and less strain as they near the centre of the bridge. Accordingly, there are fewer cables supporting the centre of the bridge, meaning the structure is much lighter and even delicate! 

The Caledonian Canal between Loch Oich and Loch Ness

Lovely, historic craft from The Netherlands making its way along the canal

The smallest loch in the Great Glen, Loch Kytra

Flowers on the banks of Loch Kytra

The River Oich, parallel to the flight of lochs on the Caledonian Canal leading to Loch Ness on the other side of the wooden bridge. Loch Oich is the high point of the water system. From here, it is all downhill to Inverness, though of course for walkers, the opposite is true!

Walking up into the forests, through these giant pine trees

The sides of Loch Ness are almost vertical. No wonder it is so deep!

A break in the trees reveals Loch Ness disappearing into the distance

The end of the diversion that caused me to walk about 4km (3mi) further! The fallen trees are visible on the left

Thomas Telford was here! He seems to have been everywhere!  This bridge in Invermoriston was one of his, one of almost 1,000 bridges built by him in the Highlands. This bridge was started in 1805, but because of delays caused by a "languid and innatentive contractor" and "idle workers", wasn't finished until 1813, causing a financial loss for the investor. 'Twas ever thus!

Long-horned Highland cattle outside my bedroom window this evening